My Big Fat Gay Life (14 page)

Confusion and doubt: new concepts for me to process. Normally I see things so clearly. I can understand people’s motivations and actions, as long as I can imagine myself in the same situation. All I have to do is ask myself what I would do in the same situation. All I have to do is assume that everyone thinks and acts like me.

I could understand a lover cheating on me: it’s something I would do. I can understand someone being vain and self-centred: they’re qualities I cherish in myself. I could even understand a friend sabotaging your relationship: it’s something I would do if I felt the friendship was threatened. However - if the sabotage is discovered - sabotage and scheming are things I would neither seek forgiveness for, nor forgive. Especially given the fact that the friend in question had set me up with the relationship in the first place - which, again, is something I would do.

A spanner was thrown in the works this morning. I’d just finished a massage for a client whom I was growing quite fond of - he likes naturist massages and seems quite happy for me to unload all my troubles onto him during the massage, in effect becoming my outlet since I’d ceased being friends with Sebastian – when my mobile rang. I didn’t recognise the incoming caller’s number, and was quite surprised to discover it was Justin.

“Hi Kento,” he said, “it’s Justin. You alright?”

“What’s up?” I asked suspiciously.

“I’d like to meet you if that’s OK,” he answered.

“If it’s about Sebastian and what he did to me, I’m not interested,” I stated bluntly.

“Let’s not discuss it over the phone. Can you meet me at the gym at 10:30?”

In the space of a split second, I had a quick debate with myself. I had no desire to listen to Justin justify Sebastian’s actions, however Justin was hot and not afraid to show cock.

“OK,” I said, terminating the call.

“Who was it?” Ian, the naturist massage client, asked as he finished getting dressed. He’d just spent the last hour listening to me vent about Sebastian and Bruce, so it wasn’t an inappropriate question. “Was it Bruce?”

“No,” I replied. “I haven’t heard from Bruce since the day Sebastian reported him to the Police for supposedly stalking him. It was Sebastian’s friend, Justin.”

“What did he want?”

“He wants to meet with me,” I answered.

“Good!” Ian stated. “You should do it. Listen to what he has to say. There’s two sides to every story - sometimes even more!”

With that, Ian left the apartment.

* * *

I arrived at the gym at 10:45 to find Justin on a treadmill. He was wearing a pair of white spandex shorts, and his impressive bulge swayed hypnotically from side to side as he jogged.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said.

“No problem at all,” Justin said, with a wide endearing smile on his face. “I only just got here myself. It’s common knowledge that if you want Kento somewhere at a specific time, tell him to be there fifteen minutes earlier.”

Not sure if I was being insulted or not, I asked Justin to spot me on the weight bench. As I lay down on the bench, Justin’s bulge loomed into view above me. The temptation to reach out and touch it was overwhelming, but I managed to grab the barbell instead. We exchanged light pleasantries as I pressed weights whilst focusing on his bulge. Eventually I could press no more, and Justin helped me seat the barbell back in its cradle. I sat up, nearly headbutting Justin’s bulge in the process.

After we’d both finished our workouts, Justin suggested we relax in the steam room. Nodding my agreement, we went into the men’s changing area. Justin stripped off his shorts and his magnificent cock bounced into view.

“That’s better!” he said as he stepped under a shower. I was glad I’d planned ahead and worn baggy shorts with tight underwear: my erection was straining to be released. I waited until he’d finished his shower and gone into the steam room before having my own quick shower - I didn’t want to risk my hard-on becoming visible when my shorts got wet - and joining Justin in the steam room.

“Can we talk about Sebastian please?” he asked, rubbing his hand slowly across his chest.

“Ummm sure,” I answered, my eyes following his hand.

“Sebastian’s being torn apart,” Justin stated, his hand working its way down his abs. “He hates that you aren’t talking to him anymore.”

My gaze followed his hand as it reached his thigh and rested there. I was mesmerised. Suddenly, I realised he was waiting expectantly for me to say something.

“He hurt me,” I said simply. “He introduced me to Bruce and then, when things were finally going great, he sabotaged it. He’s not a real friend. He played games with me.”

“Sebastian never meant to hurt you,” Justin said, rubbing both hands slowly up and down his thighs. “He didn’t introduce you to Bruce: Bruce planned that himself. Bruce was only ever supposed to be a one-night stand for Sebastian, but Bruce became obsessed with him!”

I knew I was being manipulated. I knew Justin was putting on a show to keep my attention divided between what he was saying, and what he was doing. It worked! Under ordinary circumstances, there’s no way I’d sit still long enough to listen to someone justify such poor treatment of me. Justin stood up and stretched, then rubbed his hand briefly across his groin. His cock and balls bounced.

“Sebastian and I have been friends for years,” I said slowly, staring unabashedly at Justin’s cock. He had it barely inches from my face. “How could he do that to me?”

“Sebastian did nothing to you, except try to protect you. He sincerely hoped things would work out for you and Bruce.” Justin put his hands just above his crotch and moved them slowly up over his abs and pecs, drawing my eyes up to his face. “He knew you were in love with Bruce, and he couldn’t bring himself to tell you about Bruce’s stalking behaviour - nor the things Bruce had said to Ruth. You have to believe that Seb loves you dearly, and it was only when Bruce’s stalking moved to a scary and dangerous level that Seb took action against him.” The sincerity in his eyes touched me.

“Does he have proof of the claims he made against Bruce?” I asked, watching Justin’s hand move down to his crotch. He grabbed his cock and slowly swung it from side to side in front of my face.

“There’s plenty of proof,” Justin said. “Please, just know that this was never about you.”

* * *

So there we have it: Justin is unbelievably hot, and unbelievably manipulative. He’d successfully distracted my passionate mind – the part of me that felt strong emotions, including anger, betrayal, and lust – and enabled doubt to sidestep my passion, planting itself in my rational mind.

After I left the gym, I felt slightly out of sync with the world around me. I walked in a daze, mulling over the doubts in my mind and debating whether they had any basis in fact. Eventually I found myself back at my apartment.

Was it possible that Bruce had deceived me? Was it possible that he’d used me to become a fixture in Sebastian’s life? Was it actually possible that he could prefer Sebastian to me? My ego rejected the idea. Nobody could deceive me like that, and nobody could possibly prefer Sebastian to me - especially to the point of stalking him. Bruce should have been stalking me! I didn’t believe I could be deceived and used like that, but then again I also believed I couldn’t be manipulated in the way Justin had just accomplished.

I let myself into my apartment and dropped my keys on the hall table. They fell next to Bruce’s mobile phone, which had been sitting there since the day he’d disappeared: the day Sebastian made awful accusations about Bruce to the Police and wrenched my world apart. I picked up the phone and carried it into the lounge room.

Feeling a connection to Bruce as I handled the phone, I suddenly realised that I didn’t have any photos of him. I opened the camera application in the hope of finding one there. Instead, I found more confusion and doubts.

Bruce’s phone was full of photos of Sebastian. Sebastian walking Cujo; Sebastian in his gym gear; Sebastian eating with his boss Quentin at a restaurant; and, most shockingly of all, Sebastian naked. There were full body nude photos, and close ups of Sebastian’s cock.

My passionate mind kicked in and overrode the doubts. It was now obvious to me that Bruce and Sebastian had been sleeping together the whole time that Bruce had been with me. Then a spark of rationality ignited: they had no reason to hide an affair, and in none of the photos was Sebastian looking at the camera. In the nude photos he looked like he was sleeping, and all the other photos had the look of surveillance photos.

I left the apartment and walked briskly to the sushi bar. I stopped outside, slightly out of breath, and took the opportunity to peer in through the window. Sebastian was there at our usual table, alone, and looking quite sad. My heart swelled with the affection I felt for him. I realised he must have been coming to lunch every day since we last spoke, hoping I’d turn up and go on a rant about some new boyfriend and that things would go back to normal.

I owed Sebastian an apology: a very big and heartfelt apology. I prepared mentally what I was going to say, and just as I was about to walk to the door and enter the restaurant, my passionate mind kicked in again. I couldn’t admit I was wrong; I couldn’t admit that the whole situation wasn’t about me; I couldn’t admit that someone found Sebastian more attractive than me; and I certainly couldn’t admit that I’d treated Sebastian so poorly.

I needed more time. I turned and walked away.

Could it be true? Could I really have another son? Sebastian had shown me photos of Tony, and I must admit the resemblance between Tony and Sebastian is remarkable. That, however, is not proof. I was going to meet Tony for the first time today, and we were going to have a DNA test done. That would be definitive proof.

Over the decades of swinger’s parties, group sex, and various other sexual liaisons, I could count on one hand the number of times I had cause for concern. Condoms broke occasionally, resulting in a series of blood tests each time to ensure I hadn’t picked up anything nasty. Unwanted pregnancies never entered my mind: that was the domain of teenagers trying to live on benefits. No sane, mature woman who attended sex orgies could possibly consider not taking the pill, could she? Patricia had never picked up a sexually transmitted infection, whereas I had picked up two. They were easily treated, luckily, and there was no point berating each other or ourselves. We knew the risks involved with our leisure activities, and we went into them with our eyes wide open.

Realising my mind was wandering, I set about writing the notes for the session with the client who’d just left my office. The pen didn’t move for long before my mind went off on a tangent. How would I react if Tony were my son? How would Tony react? I shoved the thoughts aside, telling myself there was no point planning a relationship until we knew for certain if there was a relationship to build. I finished the session notes and buzzed Sue.

“Could I please have some coffee?” I asked her. When the door to my office opened, I watched her breasts appreciatively as she set a cup of coffee down on my desk.

“You have a free hour,” she said briskly as she returned to the outer office. “The next appointment phoned yesterday to cancel.”

“Thanks,” I said, smiling broadly. The next appointment was supposed to be Quentin from Rainbow’s End. We’d worked through the issue of his attraction to his young charges: Quentin now realises his desire to bed them was merely an extension of his desire to look after them, and that sleeping with them actually caused more harm than good. That allowed him to focus on more productive ways to protect and nurture them. Cancelling today’s appointment indicates that he must have worked through his other issue and finally told my son about his feelings for him, and his declaration of love must have been well received or Quentin would be here today.

Halfway through my coffee, I heard the phone ring in the outer office, followed by the buzzer of the intercom on my desk.

“Yes?” I asked, pressing the button.

“Mrs. Parker is on line one,” Sue said.

I picked up the phone and pressed line one. “Hello my little hell demon,” I purred down the line.